Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
I gaped at her, but she shook her head. “You don’t want Mom to take care of the kids? Fine. You do it. I have to work.”
The gate slammed behind her, and I stared at it. Years I’d carefully crafted my cover. Years I’d pretended to be the international shipping broker who couldn’t ever make it home, too busy, too much going on. And my sister and mom had known.
There were reasons that the job was classified, and my brain helpfully supplied all the HR presentations, reminding me that a family that knew was a family that could be targeted.
I didn’t mind putting a bullseye on my own back and walking around in front of a trigger-happy firing squad, but I’d never wanted that for my family. I’d never wanted that for my sister or my mother, for the niece and nephew I’d never known.
My ears buzzed like bees were swarming. My heart beat too fast, and I was suddenly aware of all the different enemies I’d made in my career.
I’d robbed a billionaire of his entire stock of magical artifacts while pretending to be a broker. I’d put the head of a mafia family in prison through my undercover work when he tried to buy an artifact to help his family regain their position in Boston. I’d been chipping at the Green Scales organization for a couple of years. If they found out it was me who had taken down their Southeast Asia branch, I would be wanted man number one.
“Damian?” Cassander stood in front of me, his eyes searching my face.
“We have to go,” I said.
“Go where?” Cassander asked.
“Anywhere.” I shook my head, but no, Mom and Candy didn’t know . Candace had said CIA . They thought I was CIA.
The relief coursed through me. Maybe I could still salvage this.
“You were the one who said we had to stay here.” Cassander tilted his head. “Why are we staying here?”
His tone said he was fishing. He had his line in the water and thought maybe I was dumb enough to bite.
“People are after us in Paris, they found us in Quebec. They won’t find us here,” I said.
“Because…” Cassander tilted his head.
“Because Desert Flower is a shit town in the middle of nowhere. We aren’t using our cards or my phone. They can’t track us here.” As I spoke, I realized something that Twenty-one had already known. “Because the agency I work for is after me, and they know this is the one place on earth I’d never come back to. It’s in all my psych profiles.”
Which I wasn’t supposed to have access to, but what was a little espionage between spies when a psych eval was all that stood between me and fieldwork?
So what if my risk evaluation was broken and I valued my own life less than the mission? Dr. Aston didn’t know what she was talking about when she recommended I take some time out of the field to let myself recover a sense of self and individuality away from the cover stories I’d developed.
“And me?” Cassander asked. “Why should I stay?”
I looked up, my eyes catching his. “Why should you stay?”
Something pulled between us, and I could feel his hand in mine, the warmth of his palm, the tight grip of his fingers. The way that he’d looked at me like I was water he needed to live, the way that his lips wrapped around the words I owe you a debt .
“Because you don’t have anywhere to go. You stay, you help me figure out how we transported around the world, anything I missed in Paris, and then I help you get what you need to get your throne.” I watched him. “I know how to get magical artifacts.”
“You assume what I need is a magical artifact.” But Cassander was smiling, as though no one had ever needed him before.
“It isn’t?” I asked.
“What I need is unique in all the universe. But yes.” Cassander considered me. “I think you will be the one who helps me find it.”
“Breakfast is getting cold!” my mother shouted from the door.
We went back inside.
My mom didn’t protest when I said I’d watch the kids, just told me she’d be back for dinner and how to make sandwiches for the kids’ lunches.
“I know how to make a sandwich, Ma.” I watched as she packed her own purse, double-checking she had her wallet and phone.
“How do I know what you know?” My mother picked up a scarf and wrapped it around her hair.
“I know how to slap peanut butter and jelly on bread,” I said.
My mother grumbled but kissed both grandkids and then pulled me into a hug, murmuring, “Keep your eyes on him.”
I pulled back, trying to catch her gaze, but she was already gone out the front door. I watched her car leave from the front window, letting the curtain fall back into place. When I turned around, Riley had a knife to Junior’s throat as Cassander stood over them.
“What the actual hell?” I demanded.
“Too slow,” Cassander said. He moved the blade up so that it wouldn’t have to saw through cartilage. “Pull up at this angle.”
Junior made a squawking noise, and I leapt forward, tripping over a discarded basket of plastic toy vegetables. The blade pressed harmlessly into his skin, and I looked down, putting together the toy set and the blade.
“Don’t teach my niece how to kill my nephew. It doesn’t look good for my babysitting reviews.” I took the blade from Riley, pocketing it.
The living room was still a mess from my fight with Brad the night before, and my mother hadn’t mentioned it, which made the direction to clean up just that much louder. Groaning, I began fixing the toppled coffee table, righting the side table. Everything had spilled out of it, and I stacked the magazines, my fingers stopping when I found a handkerchief. The soft cotton was faded, the red a shade more like pink.
“What is that?” Riley demanded, standing next to me. She reached for it, but I snatched it away, shoving it in my pocket.
“Come on, help me, and I’ll take you out in the backyard.” I tried to make it sound like a bribe, but Riley gave me an annoyed look. Still, she and Junior both began putting things back to rights.
They found a couple of photos and set them up on the coffee table, and that was the first time I took a good look at them. The first I remembered vividly: a family trip to the coast. During one of the rare weekends neither Mom nor Dad had been working, my dad had packed the station wagon and driven us all to Ventura, where we stayed in a cheap motel a couple of blocks from the beach. Sand had gotten everywhere. The bedsheets had been rough with it.
Candy and I had shivered in the chilly Pacific Ocean while Mom had stood on the sand, yelling at us to be careful, to watch out. Dad had waded out to float in the water with us until we all came out covered in goose bumps and shaking from the cold, and my mother had been able to say, “I told you to be careful!” as though chill was something we could watch out for.
In the photo, we all sat on the sand, grinning at the camera.
The second photo was the same one my mother had printed large for my father’s funeral. He was in a suit, facing the camera, his smile broad.
“That’s Grandpa,” Riley said, following my eyes. “He died before I was born. Do you remember him?”
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing down the emotion that choked me. “Yeah, I remember him. Okay, good enough. Outside!”
We stayed outside until the desert heat drove us indoors, and then we overused my mom’s air-conditioning as the kids watched a Disney movie. Cassander observed everything with interest, asking questions about the plot and narrowing his eyes.
“Well, that’s not a good contract.”
“He’s the bad guy ,” Riley said, rolling her eyes.
“But she doesn’t read good,” Junior said. “Anyone could read that he was lying. Anyone .”
Cassander huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s still a bad deal.”
Around lunch, I went into the kitchen, grabbing the loaf of bread my mother had pointed out earlier and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for all of us. I came back into the living room to find Cassander on the floor with the children, a deck of cards in his hand.
He looked expectantly at them, and Junior bit his lip briefly before saying, “Hearts?”
Cassander shook his head, flipping over the top card to reveal the ace of spades. Then, he reached forward and seemed to draw the queen of hearts out from behind Junior’s ear.
“Was this the card you were thinking of?”
Junior gaped, and Riley turned to me, accusing. “Abuela never teaches us any of this!”
“That’s because she teaches you a different kind of magic. Come on. Let’s eat.” I put the kids’ plates on the table, then hesitated.
Cassander’s long fingers slid over the corners of the deck of cards, sliding up and down, his brown eyes a silent challenge. Could I figure out how he was doing his trick? I raised an eyebrow and sat in front of Cassander.
He shuffled the cards, the snap of the cards meeting the only sound between us. Cassander raised an eyebrow at me. “Would you like to play?”
“Sure.” I let my lip tilt up.
Cassander shuffled the cards again, then offered them over to me. “Cut the deck.”
I took them, my fingertips brushing over his palm, feeling a shiver up my spine. I swallowed, trying to remind myself that he was a suspicious person. I was suspicious of him.
I cut the deck twice, handing it back to him.
Cassander’s eyes focused on mine, and I was reminded again of the image from last night—Cassander made from gold and bronze. As though some artisan had poured him, then shaped him into his current form, as though some god had brought him to life because of the prayers and whispered desires of an ancient queen.
He clasped the cards between his two hands, then looked at me expectantly. “Think of a card.”
I knew I was supposed to think of a normal playing card—the king of clubs, the nine of hearts, the ace of spades. Instead, my mind flashed to my mother’s tarot deck. She had a few: a classic Rider Waite deck, another that was Santa Muerte themed, sugar skulls and orange flowers on every card.
But she had an even older one, the cards faded from use, the corners worn. She said that she had inherited it from her mother, and her mother had received it from her own as a gift.
My mind went to the Lovers card, a pair sitting on a platform, surrounded by the universe, peacefully observing the stars. They were more shadow than figure. It was almost impossible to tell anything about them except that they were at peace, their hands interlocked as they observed the night sky spinning around them.
I shook my head, thinking instead of the king of diamonds.
“I have one.”
Cassander closed his eyes, a frown twitching between his brows. Then, he looked up at me, eyes wide.
“Give me the coin in your pocket.” He let his lips spread, and I rolled my eyes at the ruse. This was straight out of something from a late-night carnival.
Still, I drew the gold coin out of my pocket, handing it over. He took it, pinching it between forefinger and thumb, glaring at it, twisting it back and forth before he put it in his own pocket.
Then, with utmost care, he flipped over the top card.
I stared down at the picture of the Lovers from my mother’s tarot deck. “Cassander. What is this?”
I looked up at him, but he was frowning down at it. When he looked up at me, he was puzzled, and I looked down again to see the king of diamonds. My heart pounded in my chest.
“Was this not your card?” Cassander seemed genuinely confused, the frown between his brows pulled tight.
“No. You got it right.” I nodded slowly. I must have been thinking of it, confusing myself. We hadn’t gotten enough sleep, and my world was falling down around my ears. It was entirely possible that I was hallucinating at this point.
“Let’s eat.” Cassander offered over his hand, standing, and I took it, letting my palm linger on his, feeling the lightning bolts of excitement arc up my arm. His eyes went wide, focusing on my mouth.
His lips opened, tongue flicking out, as he considered his next words. Then, he tightened his fingers around mine, tugging me over to the table. The kids were deep in argument about a TV show they both watched, and I let go of Cassander’s hand to sit down.
Still, I couldn’t help but watch his long fingers as he took half of the sandwich, bringing it to his lips. There shouldn’t be anything sensual about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I couldn’t help the yearning I felt watching his plush lips move.
After lunch, he murmured something, disappearing back down the hall. I took the kids’ plates to the sink, turning on the water and rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher.
Closing the dishwasher, I adjusted my pants, feeling something heavy in my pocket. Reaching in, I drew out the gold coin, frowning at it. I had given it to Cassander. I remembered handing it to him. He had not given it back.
In fact, he hadn’t been close enough to my pocket to return it, even if his fingers were even faster than mine or Candy’s.
I looked around, but the kids were distracted by TV, and Cassander was still missing. Heading down the hallway into the bedroom, I found him pacing the room, fists white where they gripped his elbows. He saw me, the coin in my hand, and looked up at me with a glare.
“What?” I asked.
He exhaled, but the smile that stretched his lips was no longer pretty. It was no longer soft. And I felt everything in me tense in anxiety.
“What?” I asked again.
“You wanted to know how we are traveling from place to place. How we moved half the world in the blink of an eye.” He strode forward, and I didn’t back up, despite his speed, despite the intensity of his gaze. I stood my ground, so he was nearly pressed against me when he plucked the coin from between my fingers.
“ I am not the one who has the most powerful magical artifact in the universe.” He turned the coin in his hand. “Congratulations. You hold the key to everything.”